Father and Son
by Molly4
Summary: Fluffly little "Vortex" father/son bonding fic. Takes place during and after the episode. This was written in about 15 min directly after I watched "Vortex" so don't hate me if it stinks. R


"Vortex" issues between Jonathan and Clark. Things need to be said. It's pretty corny. I don't own Smallville. Bonus points to anybody who knows the short story the ending is based on!  
  
Rating: PG  
  
  
Fathers and Sons  
By: Molly  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Clark leaned his head on his father's chest, going back to when he was younger; perhaps it was after a nightmare, or when he thought there was something was scary in the closet. Either way, he remembered being in the same position before. Hot tears burning his eyes as his dad held him close. His dad was always there when he needed him.  
  
"Are you okay?" Jonathan asked breathlessly, cupping Clark's chin in his hands.   
  
Clark looked into his dad's eyes and wanted to cry. Jonathan was in so much pain. Blood flowed down his face and he winced when he moved even an inch. Why? Because of him. It was all his fault. Jonathan has risked his life to protect Clark's secret. And how had Clark usually acted about it? Like he didn't care who knew. His father forgave him for every slip-up he made when it came to guarding his secret but this time Clark couldn't forgive himself.   
  
"I'm fine," Clark gasped, feeling all physical pain wear away. The offending jacket was far away, too far to hurt him. He swallowed, feeling another tear trail down his cheek. "Thanks Dad."  
  
"No problem son," Jonathan said with all the love a father could have for his son showing in his eyes. He ran one hand through Clark's dark hair, using the other one to wipe the tears off of his face, not giving any regard to the ones running down his own soot covered cheeks.  
  
"I love you Dad," Clark told Jonathan, his voice cracking with emotion.  
  
"I love you too, Clark," Jonathan answered hugging him tighter against his sore ribs. He had to grace not to even wince.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"It's good to be home," Jonathan said softly, standing in the living room with one arm around Martha and one arm around Clark. His flannel shirt was open revealing a large white bandage that wrapped around his chest and several black and blues around it. Still, through his pain, he smiled for his family.  
  
"It's great to have you home," Martha breathed. "We were so worried about you." Tears brimmed in her eyes. She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.   
  
Jonathan let go of Clark for a minute and pulled Martha in close to him so her head was right under his chin.   
  
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere, Martha. What would you guys do without me?" Jonathan grinned.  
  
"We'd probably have a lot of starving cows," Clark answered, grinning brightly, though his eyes showed his real feelings. He was clearly nervous.  
  
"Honey, you should lie down," Martha advised Jonathan looking at him with concern and lightly brushing the bandage on his face. "You've had a long day. You need your rest. Now up to bed!"  
  
Jonathan looked at the ground. He scuffed his shoes on the wood floor a little bit. He looked up at Clark, examining his expression carefully.  
  
"Actually Martha," he began, not taking his eyes off Clark, "I think I'd like to lounge on the couch a little bit. I need to have a talk with Clark."  
  
Martha looked at both of them and smiled a little bit. They obviously had a lot to talk about. She placed her hands on Jonathan's chest and smiled, feeling the same warm feeling in her hands that she did every night when she put her arms around him and went to sleep. She kissed him once more, this time on the lips.   
  
"Okay, I'll leave you two boys alone. I have to pick up some things at the market for dinner. Jonathan, I'll make your favorite, including a pecan pie for dessert. Then after the supermarket I think I'll swing by the relief center and see if there's anything I can do for them."  
  
"You do that," Jonathan said with a warm smile. He watched his wife go, smiling the whole time.  
  
They both watched Martha pull out of the driveway. Clark swung the door closed and helped Jonathan to the couch. Clark sat down beside him as Jonathan put his feet up on the coffee table, something he would've never gotten away with had Martha been there.  
  
"So, what do you wanna talk about?" Clark asked, feeling stupid. Gee, after all they'd been through what could he want to talk about? Football? The weather?  
  
Jonathan got a wistful look in his eyes and he ran his fingers through Clark's hair again.  
  
"I remember when you were little." Jonathan seemed to be looking past Clark now. "You still had the mop hair thing. You've always had that. No matter how many times I cut your hair it always looked like that." Jonathan paused and swallowed, apparently trying to get back on track with wherever he was taking the conversation. He cleared his throat. "And you were curious." The smile was back. "Always curious. Always touching things, poking it, smelling it, tasting it. You always needed me around the explain things to you, to tell you how things worked. I'd spend hours telling you about things like how the TV worked or why the sun rose and fell."  
  
Clark smiled. He liked it when his dad got all nostalgic. It made him feel comfortable, at ease.  
  
Jonathan's voice fell abruptly. "But you don't need me around anymore. You've grown so much. You're handsome and strong, stronger than I could ever be. I'm holding you back." Tears were forming in his eyes. He sniffled. He touched Clark's face gently. "You're so special, Clark. I'll hate myself if you end up like I did; giving up my dreams to inherit the farm. I don't regret staying in Smallville, but I want a better life for you. I want you to always be financially secure, and I want you to be happy. This isn't the life for you. There's so much out there waiting for you. It's selfish of me to keep you here to do chores every day. You need more."  
  
Clark shook his head. "No Dad, you're wrong. I need you. I need you and I need Mom. Look at everything with Nixon. If it hadn't been for you I'd be on the cover of some trashy tabloid. I'm not ready to leave the farm right now. Someday, yes, but not now. I still need you guys. You're the only thing in my life keeping me normal."  
  
Jonathan didn't seem to hear him. "We started a college fund, your mother and I, shortly after we found you. There isn't much money in it, but with your grades you could easily get an academic scholarship and go wherever you want to go. If, after high school, you want to go to some college in Switzerland because that's where you want to be, go. If you don't want to go to college, you can take your college money and do something else. Travel the world. Experience new things. You're destined for greatness Clark. You can't fulfill that destiny in Smallville. Nobody really extraordinary ever came from a place like Smallville."  
  
"You did," Clark said softly, and the words finally seemed to get through to Jonathan. His face softened a little as Clark continued to speak. "You're amazing Dad. You get up every day at the crack of dawn and work for hours, never taking a break. That's the real meaning of extraordinary. You helped raise me Dad. Without you and Mom, I'd probably have ended up like Eric." Clark bit his lip. "I need you."  
  
"When I was trapped with Nixon, he, he, said some things," Jonathan explained softly. "And the more I think about it, I know he was right. I'm using you for farm chores. You could be doing so much more. The world needs a hero, not a farmhand."   
  
"I need to be a farmhand right now," Clark insisted, licking his lips. "I need you, Mom, this house, Smallville, I need all of this right now. I'm not ready for anything else." Clark paused. "Don't believe a word Nixon said, Dad, please. Fate brought you guys to me. I was meant to be a Kent." Clark chuckled a little nervously at his unintended rhyme.  
  
Jonathan laughed a little huskily. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch. He had to think. He needed Clark to understand what he was saying. He opened his mouth to say something but Clark cut him off.  
  
"Look, Dad, listen to me." Clark felt the words pouring out of his mouth not knowing where they were coming from. "You're as much my father as my real dad. You always used to say that. And you'd say that I was as much your son as Pete was Mr. Ross' son. I'm saying it now. I know me mother- my biological mother- sent me away for some reason. I don't know why. I used to ask myself that every day. I don't anymore. I know that whatever the reason was I have two great parents who love and care for me right here. That's all I need."   
  
There was a long silence. Clark hoped his words had sunk in. God, he did need his parents. Sometimes he thought he didn't, like when they said he couldn't play football, or made him stay home and do chores. It was times like this that made him realize how much he really needed his parents. Jonathan had run out in a twister to protect his secret from being exposed, and Martha, Martha was like a rock. The whole time Jonathan was missing, she was around supporting Clark. She never lost hope and she never showed Clark any of her fears, any of her doubts. They were both amazing people.   
  
"I love you," Jonathan told Clark quietly, his hands folded, his head bowed. "You are my son." The last part was probably more to himself than Clark.  
  
"I love you too, Dad," Clark replied. He gave his father an awkward hug.  
  
Martha came through the back door just then straining to manage all her bags of groceries.   
  
"Let me help you with that, Mom," Clark offered, jumping off the couch and rushing to her side. He took all the bags and placed them on the counter. He turned back to his mother, kissed her cheek and gave her a long hug.  
  
"I love you, Mom," Clark whispered softly.  
  
"I love you too, sweetie," Martha said, looking a little puzzled. She raised her eyebrows at Jonathan.  
  
And Jonathan just smiled.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"It's getting late," Martha informed Clark. "Time for bed."  
  
Clark flicked off the TV and stood up lazily. It was around eleven. Dinner had been excellent, and the conversation was pleasant. They talked no more of Nixon and his theories on the Kent family. Jonathan smiled a lot more, seemed a lot happier than he had been previously.  
  
"Goodnight," Clark told Martha  
  
"Goodnight," Martha replied with a smile. She went on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Did you get all your homework done?"  
  
Clark nodded and yawned. He was beat, which, needless to say, surprised him. He couldn't wait to hop into bed and sleep for a long, long time. He stepped onto the landing of the stairs and stopped. He caught sight of Jonathan, face and chest all bandaged and shirt hanging open, hard at work with a calculator and the month's bills. Jonathan looked frustrated. He erased a figure from his paper feverishly, cursing under his breath.  
  
All of this surprised Clark. Why wasn't his father lounging around in bed? He'd almost died on numerous occasions. Why wasn't he laying on the couch and watching TV? Why did he have to work so hard? Why did both of his parents work so hard?   
  
Clark took a few tentative steps into the kitchen. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He felt terribly guilty for all the times he'd upset his parents, all the times he refused to speak to them. All the times he'd caused them to worry, all the times he'd caused them to cry.   
  
"Dad." That one word, spoken so quietly, but with so much emotion.  
  
Jonathan looked up and smiled a little bit. He pushed a few of the bills to the side a little bit.   
  
"What's up son?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"I just wanted to say goodnight," Clark explained, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I don't want to distract you from what you're doing."  
  
"Go ahead," Jonathan replied with a wink. "I could use a distraction right now." He paused. "And some aspirin."  
  
"Goodnight," Clark told his father quietly.  
  
"Goodnight," Jonathan answered.  
  
Before he knew what he was doing, Clark had walked over to his father and kissed him goodnight. Jonathan looked a little surprised but he smiled and squeezed his hand lovingly.  
  
"Thanks Dad," Clark said softly. "For everything."  
  
"No problem, son." Jonathan paused. "And I'm always here when you need to talk."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Clark headed upstairs, running the whole scene through his mind again. He hadn't kissed his father goodnight since maybe the sixth or seventh grade, though Jonathan had continued to come in at night and do so. It was odd. He was fifteen, practically a man, but that little boy who glowed inside every time his Daddy had called him Slugger still lived inside him. Part of him still wanted to be Slugger. Part of him still was.   
  
Clark flopped down on his bed, his eyes shut tight, the light off. Still he couldn't sleep. He looked down at the floor below him and used his X-ray vision. He saw two figures, one standing, one sitting, their lips locked together.   
  
Clark smiled, turned over, and fell asleep.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
THE END  
  
A/N: Anyhow, in the short story that the end of it is based on was about a teenage boy who realized how hard his father worked to give him a better life and in the end loves his father a lot more and does some of the same things Clark did. It's sort of a stretch in this genre, but I thought it might hit some people. 


End file.
